The Crime Doctor's Diary

... and that is understandable because by this time - 1949 - Warner Baxter was pretty much in constant pain due to his arthritis. It's painful for me to watch this film not because it isn't good but because you can clearly see the man is suffering.

Thus the usually supporting players take up the slack here, with Baxter really not participating that much in the action. Here we have a man, Steve Carter, getting paroled after serving three years for an arson he says he did not commit. The advice from the warden is for Steve to stay out of trouble, but with nothing but revenge on his mind for whoever it was who framed him, Steve isn't listening. The ever loyal Jane is waiting for him at the prison gates even though Steve threw her over for the more elegant Inez. Inez is now involved with tough guy George Goldie Harrison, played by Robert Armstrong, but that doesn't mean the two don't get locked in a passionate embrace the first time they meet after Steve's release. The news of this infidelity does not amuse Goldie.

It isn't long before one of the guys on Steve's short list of people who could have framed him turns up dead. Since Dr. Ordway (Baxter) recommended Steve for parole in the first place and Steve is acting quite guilty by running from the police, will the good doctor wind up with egg on his face? Watch and find out.

Making sure the mood doesn't get too heavy is Whit Bissell as a song writer who is obsessed with recording and performing just one awful tune. Is he harmless but annoying or is he the red herring villain that has ruined Steve's life for some reason real or imagined? Again I say, watch and find out.

Warner Baxter ended his stint at Columbia Pictures Crime Doctor series with one of the best of the series in Crime Doctor's Diary. This concerns Baxter okaying the parole of Stephen Dunne who was released after serving three years of a ten year term for arson.

As all convicts he claims his innocence and even the Crime Doctor is not first willing to believe him. Allegedly Dunne set a fire at the business of Robert Armstrong who is a gangster who has a hold on the jukebox concession.

There's a new business however which seemed to anticipate IPODs by a few generations. You call a number from a place where a machine connected to the central location and request a song. A record will then play over a loudspeaker. The company stores an infinitely more amount of 78 RPMs than any jukebox will. Armstrong is not happy that this is cutting in on his business. He even more resents Dunne cutting in on his time with Adele Jergens.

Another murder happens and Dunne escapes the cops, but takes a cop's bullet. Will Dr. Ordway clear Dunne of this murder and maybe the original charge? You know the Crime Doctor will.

Stealing the film in every scene he's in is Whit Bissell who plays a slightly demented brother of Don Beddoe. Bissell has the idea he's a song writer and is forever plugging this incredibly bad song he wrote about his little French horn as a kid that he toodely tooted all day. But Bissell demented though he is actually has the key to the whole mystery. The future Ms. Moneypenny Lois Maxwell is also here carrying a big old torch for Stephen Dunne.

For a B film from a movie series The Crime Doctor's Diary is one of the best of the series and could stand up to more sophisticated detective stories. It moves without a second of wasted film frames and the editing of the story is much better than you get in most films of this type.

Warner Baxter did only three more films after The Crime Doctor's Diary. This one is a really good introduction to him as a player in his later years.

As has earlier been commented, Whit Bissell's performance here as an aspiring and mentally challenged composer is a scene-stealer. He intuitively takes the film to another plane with a blissful unawareness that is inadvertent and yet elevating. Along with the tragic end of his character Tom Lister in "Brute Force" this is one of his most affecting performances of the forties. Probably the second most affecting. He seems to inhabit this role as opposed to the other actors in the film who seem to just be going through their paces robotically and quite superficially with little or no special touch of humanity other than to move the story along so they can pick up their check. The film stops when he comes on the screen and you do a double take because you sense this performance is a silk purse in a sow's ear of a film. His character Pete Bellem, touching, halting and muddling along, stays with you when everyone else in the film just fades away into cardboard kitsch heaven. And that song of his so conscientiously crumbles upon itself that it takes on a profound, sad and yet sweet resonance which belies its silliness. Whit was a talented pianist, by the way. He puts that to use here (and in some other roles through the years). He was also a fencing enthusiast in real life. His character Pete Bellem, harmless and hampered and even harassed here by those who have no time of day for him and, in their self-anointed intellectual superiority, belittle what they feel are his mental limits, may be in a world of his own but in this world of charlatans and floozies and hucksters, his seems a better, kinder world. His fingers are his intellect. He loves his ditty no end and to the exclusion of all critique. He is a man-child in this not so promised land and (toot-toot) one you root for. He is the heart and very much the only soul of this film and definitely the only one who stays with you as the credits roll. Great job. Rest in peace, Whit.

One thing that makes this final entry in the Crime Doctor series better than average, aside from the interesting collection of players, is the writing, a mixture of 1940s crime dramas with a few throwbacks to 1930s comedies.

On one hand we have a spattering of old-timey cops-and-robbers lingo, with terms like "moll," "dip," "binnie", "pigeon," and "prowl car". Plus, there's the gratuitous use of firepower to pursue an obviously unarmed suspect which wouldn't be tolerated in today's televised police procedure.

On the other hand there are several laugh-out-loud zingers and one-liners that are clever in context but would make no sense if repeated here.

With a less convoluted plot than previous entries in the series, there is still a sufficient number of suspects to keep one guessing as to the perpetrator; but this tale depends less on our good doctor's crime-solving abilities than on a device introduced midway through the action at which one's immediate reaction is "evidence".

Last of ten in the series with Warner Baxter playing the part of Dr. Robert Ordway, former criminal turned psychiatrist. The series ran from 1943-1949 and always involved the outsider specialist trusting and then helping hapless victims of the criminal justice system.

This entry opens with Dr. Ordway talking about the impending parole of inmate 9815, Stephen Carter (Stephen Dunne), after serving three years for a crime of arson that he did not commit. The plot thickens when the accused is implicated in the murder of the man who took his job when in prison. The solution should not be a surprise.

Lois Maxwell is not nearly as good looking or glib as she will become years later as Miss Moneypenny in seventeen James Bond movies. She plays the same role as a gate keeper for the head of the firm.

Prolific character actor Whit Bissell plays Pete Bellem who records and keeps playing a song that seems to be central to the strange comings and goings on at the Bellem Music Company…"In the house where I was born" …"When I was just a boy. A recording of Pete's song becomes a critical part of the plot.

Robert Armstrong looks a bit tired as gangster George 'Goldie' Harrigan. His new girlfriend Inez Gray, played by Adele Jergens, is best featured in a revealing negligee.

Interesting introduction to the new technology of piping recorded music over phone lines to paying customers rather than having them order selected records at a juke box.

The police are incredibly poor shots until the end. The writing is above average in this entry with such lines as, following an incomplete response to the police asking an alternate way out of an apartment building, "Did they ask if it was open?" Recommended.